


Until a Brand New World Takes Shape

by hopefuldark



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 70th Hunger Games, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, District 13 (Hunger Games), F/F, Hunger Games, Inspired by The Hunger Games, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Pre-Epilogue Mockingjay, Rebellion, Stupid Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25525642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefuldark/pseuds/hopefuldark
Summary: Imogen Coin was the daughter of District Thirteen's President Coin, seventeen the year of the 70th Hunger Games. This was the year she and her father were among the many citizens of thirteen who died from a smallpox epidemic. But is this really how they died? Or was there a deeper story behind it, as there always seems to be in Panem? Perhaps the rebellion didn't just start with Katniss and Peeta, but with a girl a few years before, powered by some technology, a few allies, and a unending desire to do what's right.
Kudos: 1





	Until a Brand New World Takes Shape

It was such a good dream. She was outside, staring at the sky, Eilidh’s soft body intertwined with her own. They sat there for a while in silence, listening to the birds chirp and the leaves rustle-- everything was so bright and seemed to be pulsating, breathing. Eilidh rolled over to face Imogen, smiling, and just as their faces grew closer, the second their lips made contact…   
“Im!” her father shook her awake. Imogen almost groaned in annoyance, but quickly regained her senses and jumped out of bed, half running and half being pushed into the bathroom to get ready. He typically would let her sleep in until their /actual/ wake-up call, and she could even sometimes convince him to give her five more minutes after that, so him forcing her to get up now could only mean one thing.   
The loud footsteps approaching and the screech of her father’s name, “Weland!” only confirmed that, and Imogen began combing her hair at a speed that felt like it might break her neck. Not that a broken neck, at this moment in time, would be the worst thing imaginable. She opened the door and snuck out to the hallway, thinking maybe she had made it just in time, but alas, there was her mother, also known as President Coin, tall and stiff and glaring at Imogen with hatred in her eyes. Not disappointment, not annoyance, but hatred. It was the same look she had received almost every day since she was four and suggested that the way her mother had spoken to one of her technicians at dinner was mean. Alma immediately assumed that her father, who was only guilty of telling Imogen to use her mind, had put her up to this “insolent, intolerable behavior” and both of them faced the consequences.   
That’s the only reason Imogen still tried to pacify her mother, the only reason she didn’t try to debate her or tell others the horrible things she said in private. Because not only would Imogen be punnished, but Alma would find little ways to torture Weland as well. Suddenly a book that he loved would go missing, or he would have a little bit less food on his plate. She would constantly demean him, never let him go a few minutes without knowing that she thinks him a useless fool.   
When Imogen was little, her father would often try to push her away from him, encouraging her to leave his side and go to her friends for a few hours. Every time she returned he would try to act like everything was normal, would sit down to play with her and tell her stories. But he was always more tired, and his hugs before bed and assurances that everything would be okay always lasted a little bit longer. She realized later that he was protecting her from the worst of her mother’s tirades.   
So she always said yes to her mother, always took her punishments and insults without complaint and without shedding a tear. And although she wanted to stay, although she felt guilty every time she left, she still got out of the way when her father urged her to. Her presence would only make things worse.   
Imogen tried to tell herself that her mother didn’t affect her anymore. That because it had been going on forever, it was just a part of life. But Eilidh noticed her flinches to loud noises, her recoils to people making contact with her. Sometime soon after they decided they started dating, Eilidh had tried to touch Imogen’s face, just a little gesture that should have been as simple as holding hands. It triggered a panic attack that Imogen neither understood nor had matched in intensity before or after, and it took months for her to finally be completely comfortable with her girlfriend.   
Even her friend Oswin, who she had thought she hid her mother’s cruelty from, had revealed that he knew what was happening when they were eleven and he tried to hide Imogen when Alma came looking for her. Imogen asked how, and he said, in all his adolescent eloquence , “When she’s around, you look scared and turn into a statue. I don’t like it; I want Im.” From then on he was almost always keeping an eye out for Alma, always asking if Imogen was okay and making empty threats of what he would say or do to her if he had the chance.   
It comforted Imogen that he cared so much about her, but Oswin’s protectiveness could get on her nerves. Sometimes he felt more like her guard than her friend. She loved him with her entire heart, and she knew that he meant well, but it felt like her mother was not only stealing every other part of her life, but her friendships too.   
As Imogen padded through the hallways of her district, she thought back to her dream, and she thought about Eilidh. It was about time she went to get that kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much if you read this! Imogen began as an oc on Instagram, but I decided to move her over here as editing and the formalities of rp fandoms are really not my thing. And if you /are/ reading this... why? I don't know much about writing, but I do know that mine is absolute trash.


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